Hi everyone! I’m delighted to announce that this week, the eBook version of Tidepool went up on Amazon and Kobo for preorder. (Just FYI: the cover on the sale pages is not the final cover; it’s a Parliament House placeholder cover.) If you’re interested in Lovecraftian horror with a dash of American Horror Story, you’ll love Tidepool.

Preorder the eBook from Amazon.

Preorder the eBook from Kobo.

The novel will be released on August 3, 2021. There’s a print version coming too, but I’m assuming that won’t go up on Amazon and elsewhere until December at the earliest. …

The customers at Smocking’s Oddity Shoppe on that overcast Saturday afternoon later swore they actually heard Mr. Griswold coming before he entered the place. The pale, trembling fellow threw the door open, his eyes wide and red. The bells over the door jingled sharply, and everyone turned to stare at the source of the jarring sounds.

“Good heavens.” Mr. Smocking clutched his chest as Griswold hurried into his showroom. “You look like you’ve seen the devil.”

“You must help me, sir!”

The customers continued gawking, and Smocking cleared his throat. …

Zoe heard the first toy before she saw it. An odd clank-clank-clank sound disturbed the quiet in the upstairs hallway, and Zoe wandered around trying to find the noise.

Her husband Troy glanced at the ceiling and smirked. “Maybe it’s mice.”

Zoe shuddered. “That’s not funny. We just moved here.” She pulled down the attic ladder. The clanking grew louder as she climbed.

“Whatever that noise is, it’s up here,” she called down to Troy.

“Be careful, sweetie.”

Zoe sneezed and then sneezed again in the dusty, stale-smelling air. …

His bright green necktie matches his eyes. That’s the first thing Kara notices about him.

She’s not good at talking to strangers. Never has been. But when he shows up at the office wearing the same tie day after day, her curiosity overrides her shyness.

“Do you wear that because of your eyes?” She points at his tie.

“My eyes?”

“Um…” Oh god, he thinks I’m a moron. “The tie. Matches your eyes. It’s nice.” Can you even say a thing like that to a coworker without getting dragged to HR? Well, she’s just said it.

But a smile breaks…

Not-Mother scolds Christy for leaving her burnt toast and rubbery eggs uneaten, and Father stares at his hands and mumbles “Listen to your mother.” Every morning starts the same way. But this time, Christy has had enough.

“She’s not my mother!” With that, Christy bangs out of the house, cutting off Not-Mother’s shouts. That’s going to cause quite an argument when Christy comes home. Maybe she’ll just stay gone.

A salty-tear smell lingers in her nose as she swipes the back of her hand against her damp, hot face. She doesn’t know where she’s going. …

Olaf the Foolhardy was forever devising ideas that baffled and infuriated the people of Mirstone, so perhaps they shouldn’t have been surprised when he appeared in the town square one afternoon leading an enormous, lizard-like creature by a neck chain.

“Come one, come all!” Olaf summoned villagers to meet his bizarre new companion. “Come see the creature that will revolutionize the way we live! We’ll never depend on horses again.”

Villagers who drew too close to Olaf and his discovery wrinkled their noses and traded uneasy glances. A distinct smell of smoke hung around the creature, which had crimson scales…

“Dammit.”

“Looking for something, Simon?”

“My…piece.”

“Your hairpiece, you mean?”

“Yes, Heather. You know what I meant. It’s not on its stand.”

“Huh. You sure that’s where you put it?”

“Of course I’m sure. You see me leave it there every night. Do you think I’d just stop?”

“Sor-ry. Just asking.”

“I don’t suppose you happen to know where it is now.”

“Did it maybe fall behind the dresser or something? Check back there.”

“…”

“What?”

“C’mon, Heather. I really don’t have time for this today. Where’d you put it?”

“Me? What would I want with that thing? …

An ivy-covered cottage sat on a hill that overlooked a dark and shimmering sea. Faded letters on the sign out front read The Cottage at the End and the Beginning. The sounds of water lapping the banks and owls hooting from the trees were all that disturbed the moonlit evening.

But then an old man with wild white hair and a beard to match headed up the hill, carrying a lit torch and muttering to nobody. …